


Girl Scout Cookies

by Bitchpoet



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Counselor Louis, Dad Harry, Elijah has a heart condition, Eventual Smut, Harry has a crush on louis' thicc ass, He's also addicted to peppermints.., M/M, Marijuana Use, Mention of Death, Snoop Dogg - Smoke Weed Everyday, This whole fic is about weed and how much Harry loves his son and love basically
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 16:40:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11855571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bitchpoet/pseuds/Bitchpoet
Summary: Harry had Elijah when he was fourteen and since then his life has revolved around nothing other than his undying love for his son. When Elijah starts getting into trouble at school, Louis has no choice but to question Harry's parenting."I apologize." Louis coughs and crunches on his peppermint - Harry grits his teeth again. "I'm so used to being formal, you know. So used to acting like I've got a stick up my ass." Louis chuckles, visibly relaxing his shoulders, his posture not so straight and painful looking."It's okay. I usually have one up mine.""I know."





	1. The Legalization of Marijuana

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm here again with a fic I have 100% intent on finishing. I swear.  
> I watched Green is Gold months ago and this is the product of my brain being who it is - there's one parallel where Louis confronts Harry the first time but other than that the rest is straight off the dome. Thank you a fuckton for reading and pls leave me a fucking comment im very lonely ;) love you

                                                                                 

"Tell me more about Mom." Elijah says softly, brown eyes peering over at his father who's looking back at him over his phone screen. 

"Alright." Harry whispers, locking his phone and tossing it onto a couch cushion, sucking in a deep breath. Elijah has the right to ask these questions - after all, she was his mother.

"What do you wanna know, though?" He asks, leaning his cheek against the couch, watching his son stir his bowl of noodles mindlessly. 

"Whatever you want to tell me, I guess."

Harry thinks about what he should tell his son and what he shouldn't - there were some rough edges to Melanie but the rest were as smooth as her cherub cheeks. "Your mother was - she was fifteen, I believe. Sixteen a few days before you were born. And I was fourteen." Harry says, starting out easy but Elijah doesn't seem to be too appeased with the first fact. He could have done the math himself if he wanted.

"Okay. I know - you guys were _grossly_ young when you had me but what else? What don't I know?" Elijah eggs his father on, stabbing at his noodles just to shake them off and stab them all over again.

"Eli, it was so long ago, dude." Harry sighs and Elijah grimaces at him, cocking his brow.

"You'll have the sex talk with me but you won't tell me about my own mother?" He breathes, setting his bowl in the sink before making his way to the living room where Harry sits, obviously antsy. "I'll be fourteen soon, Dad. You told me about anal sex, you told me about a _clitoris_ , these are things I could learn on my own, by the way." He grabs a pillow and whacks Harry's knees with it, demanding answers because.. Well, doesn't he deserve them?

"No one else can tell me about who my mother was besides you. No retired, lonely teacher can come in the classroom and show me pictures of my mother like they can show us pictures of soft dicks and condoms." He takes in a deep breath, feeling a little lightheaded and Harry grabs his wrist to pull him down onto the couch. 

"Alright, Lijah." Harry surrenders to his son, more afraid that if he continues his tangent he'll throw himself into an asthmatic fit. " _Alright_."

They settle in together on the couch, Elijah plays with a few stray strings on a pillow as Harry sucks in a breath and wiggles himself into the cushions. "New York was rough on both of us and we found things to... Make us feel better, I guess. Melanie liked pills and I just liked to smoke. I found out later though that she was shooting up a lot when she was pregnant with you." He reaches over and smooths his fingertips over his sons wavy fringe.

"And so, you were born with a few quirks. Everyone said your eyes wouldn't uncross, but they did." Harry smiles when Elijah slaps at his fathers hand. 

"What about my heart?"

"I don't know, really. It's because of the shit Melanie pumped into her body, but.. I wasn't around much when she was pregnant with you.. I said I'd be there for you, the baby, but I didn't want to be around her bad habits. I already had my own." Harry looks at Elijah, realizing now that maybe if he'd stuck around to keep tabs on his then girlfriend maybe Elijah wouldn't have asthmatic fits and doctors appointments every second Wednesday of every month.

Maybe he wouldn't have had to spend his thirteenth birthday in the children's hospital downtown.

 "But that's good." Elijah says, despite Harry's wandering thoughts. "I mean - honestly, Dad.. I dunno - it's not typical for anyone's parents to grow like you do but.. But I wouldn't change that. I'd rather have a Dad who likes to smoke sometimes over _two_ fucked up parents." He grins and Harry sucks in a breath - sometimes he can see so much of her in him, it takes his breath away. 

"Maybe I said that wrong." The boy tilts his head and lets out a sigh. "I'm glad you're my Dad. I'm glad you had me at a gross age."

Harry knows there's more to Melanie than he'd just shared with Elijah but until the next time he asks, he'll keep it all to himself. 

                                                                                      »»-------------¤-------------««

 

It's nine o'clock in the morning on Wednesday, Zayn is over with his usual tin box of goodies and Harry had just wolfed down a whole special white chocolate chip brownie to himself. "I don't feel anything. This shit doesn't work. We could have just smoked some of the Blue we've been curing, Z. This is bullshit. Bullshit."

_Fifteen minutes later, Harry can't feel his face._

"I told you, idiot. I told you. I told you." Zayn says, slapping at Harry's knee as he squeals like a little girl - really, Harry should know better. He really, really, really should. It's just.. Well, he doesn't do the whole edible scene. He'd tried to make them once and Elijah complained for days that his clothes smelled like burnt sage and the smoke more or less forced him out into the garden for three hours until Harry could air it all out.

Afterward they got sundaes and theater hopped like two teenagers - something they've since made a Saturday ritual.

It's ten minutes after his face goes numb that his phone is ringing - it's school and suddenly his heart skips all of its beats. He dies, it feels like, right there in the patio chair outside.

"Dude. Lijah might be havin' a fit." Zayn says, urging his best friend to answer the phone when he's obviously having some kind of fit himself. 

"I know. I know. Shit - fuck. I know. Oh my god." He stands and shakes himself out head to toe, sliding the bar to answer the phone and stuttering dumbly into the receiver. "Is he okay? Is Elijah okay? Where's he at?"

"Mr.Styles."

"I'll be there in like - _fuck_ \- five seconds." 

"Mr.Styles.."

"Make sure he's got his inhaler."

"Mr.Styles, it's not about Elijah's condition." The voice says to him on the other end and Harry plops down in the grass, his hand to his chest to steady his heart.

"Oh God. Thank fuck."

He doesn't think to censor himself right now and the man on the other end clears his throat. "I will need you to come in as soon as possible, though. We have some things to talk about involving Elijah."

"Like what?"

"I would really like to discuss this in person, Mr.Styles. Is there any way you could make it here for a lunch meeting?"

"Yes - I mean - " Harry takes a deep breath and looks around him. He can't drive like this but Zayn is a rather seasoned driver under the influence of special cake pops, brownies and hard candies. "Yes." 

"11:30. Just let them know at the front office that you're here to see Mr.T. I'll make sure they have you written down." He says, cordial but he sounds stern. What could Elijah have done that requires immediate attention? And more importantly, why right now when Harry's entire body is numb? 

"Sure."

He hangs up dumbly without a goodbye or a thank you or anything but truthfully, his manners are the least of his worries.

 "I have to sober up, Zayn. Like - right now. _Right_ now."

An hour later, Harry's eaten enough to satisfy every craving but he's still blanking, he's still spacing out and he's still high as a kite. This really doesn't leave a great impression on his already bad taste about edibles. On the way to school, Harry chugs down two bottles of water as Zayn drives like he's a pro at this - granted, he'd only eaten a sliver of what Harry did. 

It's awkward when he checks in. Zayn immediately plops down in one of the the waiting chairs in the front office to play some stupid game on his phone that clearly ripped off Candy Crush and replaced all the little icons with cookies and rainbow cakes instead of jellybeans and chocolate balls.

"He said his father would be coming in today for a meeting - are you his brother?" The receptionist asks but she looks more like a student. Hell, she probably is. Who let this thirteen year old run the front desk? 

"Uh, ** _no_**." Harry says, tone dripping in attitude that you'd expect from the girl sitting across from him, not a twenty seven year old man. "I'm his father. Where is he? Do you know what this is all about?"

"I don't. I do know Elijah, though." The girl says, a blush warming her cheeks and Harry gives her a sigh, cocking a brow at her - Harry was so quick to teach Elijah about protection because of how young he'd gotten Melanie pregnant. He can only hope Elijah will keep it in his pants at least a few years longer. "Okay then-" 

"Mr.Styles." A voice says from a distance, making Harry slouch a little aftera pathetic jump.

" _Oh_."

The trip back to the office is the longest lasting fifteen steps Harry's ever had to take in his life, eyes glued shamelessly on the assets in front of him, hips swaying like he knows what he's doing. Goddamn, Mr.T - why doesn't Elijah get in trouble more often?

"Hey, Bubs." Harry ruffles his boy's hair before he plops down in the chair beside his son, hands clasped over his belly and his posture an absolute _freight_ \- Harry looks like he was raised by animals at this point and Tomlinson is taking note.

 "So, what'd he do?"

"Were you at all aware that Elijah was writing a class presentation on the legalization of Marijuana?" The man asks Harry who's smiling, nudging his boy.

"No. Had no idea." He says, trying to keep his grinning at bay. In the state of California, growing pot is legal to those with the license to do so and recreational use is widely accepted as well - so, what's the big deal?

"Do you realize that this is an issue?"

"Well, what's the issue with it?"

Elijah is grinning now too and even though Melanie shows in him the most, when he's smug like this he's almost a spitting image of his father.

"The issue is that Elijah is thirteen, Mr.Styles. A _freshman_ in high school - this isn't an essay topic someone would write about unless in college and still, it's a bit touchy." Mr.Tomlinson seems to be a bit too concerned here and Harry gives him a look - one that wonders if this man is questioning his parenting.

"It's legal in the state of California. Elijah's a smart boy." Harry says, eyes narrowing in on the counselor in front of him. Part of him wonders if this man is just droning on about how wrong Elijah is to keep his own job, to save his own ass but he realizes that's not the case when Mr. fucking T whips out a blue folder. "I suppose we can go over Elijah's grades together, then. "

The man passes the folder over to Elijah who stares at it for a moment before flipping it open, sighing softly as he glances down at the grades in front of him.

 Harry's either going to have his ass or Mr.T's.

"Go on, Elijah."

"D in Social Studies, C in Visual Arts, F in science, D in English, A in P.E. -- "

 "Good job." Harry interrupts.

"And a D in -" 

"What was that?" The counselor speaks up again and Harry glances at the man.

"He said he has an A in Phys Ed so I told him good job." 

Tomlinson eyes the two of them, seconds from giving up but he's curious about Elijah's father - is this all a front? "Elijah, will you wait out in the hall?"

" _Sure_."

 Harry doesn't take his eyes off the man on the other side of the desk as Elijah slowly creeps out of the office and sits cross legged in the hallway, right ear open and listening from the outside. 

"Mr. Styles, did you graduate high school?" Tomlinson asks, unwrapping a green peppermint to shove into his mouth, eyes staring into Harry's fiercely despite offering the father one for himself - no, he won't take candy from people who accuse his boy of doing something wrong when he hasn't. 

"No. I had Lijah when I was fourteen - single father. I didn't have time to go back and with Elijah's condition, I -" He stops himself, wondering why he feels he has to defend his reason for not finishing school some other way to a stranger whose opinion really doesn't fucking matter. " _No_."

"What do you do now? Do you have a job?"

"Yes."

"What do you do?"

"I'm in sales."

"What do you sell?" 

Harry cocks his brow at the counselor, adjusting his posture so he's leaning forward a bit and in a whisper, wearing the same grin he says:

"What do you _need_?" 

It hits Louis then - he understands why Elijah would have created such a presentation, he understands why the thirteen year old is on marijuanas side — Because his father is. Much like over the phone, Tomlinson clears his throat, nearly choking on the peppermint that he pockets in his cheek instead. 

"I think it's irresponsible for you to have this kind of attitude toward yours sons grades. He's failing his classes, Harry."

"My son is the most intelligent thirteen year old I have ever met. The curriculum you teach is created by the same bastards that cut your pay and blame you when a student fails _your_ class learning from the books _they_ wrote. They get off scot-free." He adjusts himself again, his face still numb and his fingertips tingle but somehow he's a bit sharper, more mother wolf right now than anything else. "If anything's irresponsible, _whatever your first name is_ , it's what you're drilling into their brains. They won't be anything if they don't graduate, if they don't sit up straight, if they don't pay attention, if they don't follow the rules." Harry shakes his head and wills his heart to settle in beats - he doesn't want to make a fool of himself. He is Elijah's father, after all. "It's bullshit." 

"My name's Louis." The counselor says softly, the peppermint crushed between his teeth now. 

"What?" 

"You said _whatever your first name is_. It's Louis." 

The two of them share a silent gaze, Harry's is a stoned one and Louis' is sober as can be.

"I'm only doing my job. If Elijah had classes with kids on the same intellectual plane, I don't think it'd be an issue but we're expecting several phone calls and voicemails before the day is over about his presentation." 

So, that's it then. Louis doesn't even believe in the things he's scolding Elijah for but because it's his job he can't let it slide - Harry gets it but he won't tolerate anyone belittling his son.

It wasn't too long ago that Elijah was turned down from little league of all things because of his heart condition.

_It's fucking little league, you fucking prick._

Harry argued with coach for ten minutes - needless to say, Elijah was the best little league pitcher you'd ever seen and could make it to home faster than any of the other kids on his team, most of them older than himself.

No one tells Elijah he can't do something.

No one besides Harry, at least.

"Well, Louis." Harry zips his jacket up and straightens his back, "Im leaving and I'm signing Elijah out for the day."

"Ah - Principal Gibson has actually given him a two day suspension." 

"Then it'll be the best two days he's ever had."


	2. Mr.Peppermint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter made me cry for a second cause im a lil bitcc who gets emotional bc of her own writing.  
> leave me a fucking comment, i'm very lonely ;)

                                                                               

And, they were.

They theater hopped and ate sundaes and it wasn't even Saturday. They watched movies and played video games. They did whatever they wanted. They took naps on the couch, they ate soup, they ate cereal at one in the morning, they shit talked and for the first time in ages, Elijah fell asleep pressed against Harry's side.

"He showed me his presentation." Zayn says quietly from the beanbag near the television. "He's smart, Harry. You know that - but - he could really help us somehow, you know."

"You mean - you mean with the _business_?"

"Yes."

"No. I couldn't do that,"

"Think about it." Zayn urges, eyes piercing Harry's soul with sincerity. "Read what he wrote, Harry. He knows what he's talkin' about - he either listens to us or -"

"Zayn. **No**." Harry shakes his head and cards his fingers through Elijah's hair as he sleeps. His boy is growing up - soon, Harry won't be able to do this anymore. He hates the thought. "He got in trouble for making a presentation about the legalization of marijuana. Imagine how much trouble he'd get in - how much trouble _I'd_ get in if he made one about _growing_ and _selling_ it."

"He likes shock value. He told me himself. Just talk to him about that - he listens to you, Harry. He looks up to you - you're his father." Zayn says, nudging Harry's knee with a grin. He remembers Harry's several breakdowns when Elijah was entering puberty - the poor man was convinced his son hated his guts with all the hormonal outbursts he was having.

"Let me think about it." He mumbles, groaning loudly as he scoops Elijah up to carry him up two flights of stairs to his bed. "I'm not promising anything."

 

  
                                                                                      »»-------------¤-------------««

It's a month before Harry gets a call like the last one from Louis, this time it's because Elijah has been locking himself in the boys bathroom to skip science - can you blame Harry for feeling like maybe Louis was right? Maybe he should push Elijah a little harder because it seems like whatever he's doing now isn't working.

"Tell Louis I'm here." Harry barks at thegirl sat at the front desk, his brows furrowed and his hands shoved in his pockets - he's never had to get tough with Elijah.. He's always just sort of.. Done what he's supposed to do.

"Around the corner." The girl says with just as much authority as Harry and it makes him grimace - alright, he deserves it.

Around the corner, into Tomlinson's office. Elijah sits with his head down while Louis unwraps another stupid green peppermint.

"I've got to be honest with you - the state's concerned about Elijah.. With the last stunt he pulled and now this - they're ordering a home visit by the school board." Louis says around his peppermint, arms crossed over his chest as Harry stares down at his son with an obvious glare.

"A home visit? Like - like a fucking _inspection_?" Harry murmurs, his brows furrowed while he looms over his son who cowers with a sigh.

"Yes. It'll be done by me - so - I don't know if that helps or hurts the situation." Louis says softly, slipping Harry the paper. "They want it done tomorrow. I guess they figure the sooner it's done the less time you have to clean up your needles, crack pipes and whores." He whispers with a gentle chuckle, toying with another peppermint in his hands - _please, get rid of those things._

"I'm really so glad this is _funny_ to you." Harry grumbles, making Elijah stand by dragging him up by his forearm

"Dad.."

"Shut up."

"It's not, Harry. It's funny to me that this is what they've decided to do to you. It's not just the presentation. Its not just skipping classes. It's you. It's your age, mostly. I've seen this before." He says, making sure Harry takes the paper of rules and restrictions for the home visit - what they expect and what they definitely shouldn't see in a home.

"S'bullshit." He murmurs, staring down at the paper. October 7th at 6 PM. " _Tomorrow_? On a Saturday? Seriously?" He groans, guessing that the two of them won't be going out for sundaes and theater hopping anyhow considering Elijah's new classes in the bathroom.

"It's the only choice we've got. That or you take it to court and that's an even bigger risk, Harry." He chomps down on his candy and it makes Harry grit his teeth. "It's just me. We've come to know one another well enough."

Perhaps Louis' right - if this is what the state wants, this is what the state will get.

•~•                                                                                                 
    

After an hour of not speaking to one another, Elijah finally pipes up and raises his eyebrows. "We should make a dinner for Mr.Tomlinson." He suggests from his spot at the kitchen table where he's doing his homework and Harry's watching him rather intensely. For the past hour he's thought about a lot - The scared little boy he was when he first brought Elijah home and the even more scared but bigger boy he was when Elijah had his first asthma attack. The long nights holding Elijah because he wouldn't sleep otherwise, the fuzzy, sleep deprived daddy brain that couldn't compare to any strain you could ever find, the first steps, the first giggle, the first tooth. He hopes Elijah doesn't notice his misty eyes.

"You think?" He asks huskily, sniffing softly as he rubs his eyes rather nonchalantly - he'd blame it on allergies if he had to.

"Yeah. I mean, he's not gonna have much to check. They're looking for neglect and - and I'm far from neglected. You're _always_ up my ass."

"Shut up. You're up _mine_." Harry chuckles, throwing a pencil across the table at Elijah who erupts into laughter.

"Whatever. My point is that we mind as well make his trip here worth it." Elijah says but Harry can't help but wonder if his boy is up to something.

"Are you _seriously_ trying to butter up your counselor for free passes to sit on the shitter for an entire class period?"

" **No**!"

"Then where has this idea come from?"

"I -" Elijah sighs heavily and scrubs his hands over his face "Mr.Tomlinson was asking a lot of questions about you."

"So? Isn't that what he's supposed to do?"

"No, I mean - I mean - personal ones." He furrows his brows a little and sets his pencil down on top of his textbook, another sigh making him slouch.

"Like..?"

"Like uh - like how old you were when you had me. Why you named me Elijah.. He asked about your business.. You didn't tell him you sell, did you?"

Harry sighs, "I might have. Kind of. Not really, though. I've got all the legals for it, Lij - it won't get me in trouble."

"I know."

"So do you think.. I mean - what do you think? Are you saying he's asking because he thinks I'm being a bad parent or-"

"No! I think - Dad," He grunts and scrubs his sweater paw over his face again, tapping his pencil anxiously over his notebook. "I think Mr.Tomlinson kinda likes you. Like - you know. In a _gay_ way."

"In a gay way? Did you seriously just say that?"

They both laugh but it has the wheels in Harry's head turning on full power - How could Elijah pick up on that and _he_ couldn't? And what does Elijah know about the _gay way_ , anyway? In the almost fourteen years Elijah has been on this green earth Harry's only had one girlfriend and one boyfriend whom he didn't care for all that much.

Well, maybe it's worth a shot.

Even if Elijah's wrong and Louis doesn't have some strange counselor/students father crush on him.. Maybe it will gain Elijah some leeway in terms of grades and the themes he decides to do his presentations on - legal or not.

  
                                                                                      »»-------------¤-------------««

October 7th, 4 PM

"Are you sure?"

"Bubs, pasta is so fucking easy. I could make it in my sleep and.. Actually, I'm pretty sure I have." Harry grins and Elijah entertains his father by giving him a chuckle. He just thinks that maybe they could have gone for something a little simpler than the _Sun dried tomato pasta with shrimp in creamy mozzarella sauce_ that Harry found right away on Pinterest. A roast maybe, since Mr.Tomlinson is from England or a soup, even.

But, no. _Sun dried tomato pasta with shrimp in creamy mozzarella sauce_ is what they're getting. 

"Peel these." Harry says, giving Elijah a bowl of shrimp that makes him groan.

 _"Ew..No_.."

"Do you want me to die alone? Do you never want to see me have any kind of significant other?"

Elijah blinks at his father a few times before he glances down at the shrimp. "Does that mean you like him back?"

"I didn't say that"

"You're implying it."

"Peel the damn shrimp, Lijah."

•~•

It's not as big of a disaster as Elijah had thought it would be - though, Harry had overcooked the noodles but somehow cooked the shrimp perfectly on the first try.

"It's okay. I wanted to go on a ride this afternoon, anyway." Elijah tells Harry after he'd went on a full tangent about how he should have been watching the noodles more carefully and not playing this stupid game Zayn's got him hooked on now.

"Dad. It's okay. It's okay." Elijah pats Harry's shoulder as the man leans over the sink and groans at the pasta that nearly fell apart from being boiled for far too long.

"I'm really glad you aren't the one with the heart condition." Elijah says, grabbing Harry's hand me down iPhone with a pitifully cracked screen. It's mostly for emergencies but Harry's been thinking lately (or before the boys bathroom incident) about getting Elijah a new one or passing his current phone down to him so he could upgrade. Sure, iPhones are wonderful but after two years they're nearing their inevitably slow death. "You would have had so many cardiac arrests by now."

"Please. Just get more pasta. Be careful." He sighs, running water down the drain to wash away all the mushy pasta.

"I will. Love you." He calls before running out the door and hopping onto his bike, racing off into the crisp autumn air that smells like orange, crunchy leaves and cinnamon. God, how he loves October.

"Love you." Harry murmurs to himself as he stirs the shrimp around in the cheese sauce, deciding that if he fucks the noodles up again maybe he could get by with just plating these things up instead.. Shrimp with sun dried tomatoes in cheese sauce... _Perfect_..

~~Fuck.~~

Louis arrives before Elijah is back from his trip to the store and Harry can only assume he's gotten distracted by playing the video game demos in the electronics section even though this whole dinner thing is his idea.

"Where's Elijah?" Louis asks, clutching his clipboard to his side as he clicks his pen and you guessed it, he's got a peppermint stuffed in his cheek.

"He went to go get some noodles from the store." Harry answers, leaning against the kitchen counter as he sighs.

_Elijah, please hurry._

He sends the text at 6:01.

"So, a greenhouse." Louis observes as he peers outside, his head cocked as he takes a glance around the back garden. It seems Harry's rather well off, sitting pretty on his throne of medical marijuana and CBD oils.

"Yes. For the business." He answers simply, plucking a shrimp from the sauce and shoving it in his mouth - he's a nervous eater and he's not at all bothered by the thought of Louis inspecting his house top to bottom. No. Now he's worried about his son.

"That's great, Mr.Styles."

"Stop calling me that. I'm not old, Louis."

"I apologize." Louis coughs and crunches on his peppermint - Harry grits his teeth again. "I'm so used to being formal, you know. So used to acting like I've got a stick up my ass." Louis chuckles, visibly relaxing his shoulders, his posture not so straight and painful looking.

"It's okay. I usually have one up mine."

" _I know_."

Louis roams around the house curiously, inspecting Elijah's bedroom which truthfully looks fit for a king, if that king likes video games as much as a thirteen year old and has a plethora of framed vintage comic books and horror posters from a certain uncle Zayn.

Harry's room is next and Louis can't help the grin on his face as he roams every corner - it's obvious that for thirteen years Harry's life has centered around nothing but Elijah. It looks as if he keeps every card Elijah has ever made for him and every picture his eye lands on makes his smile grow wider. Louis has had to do these visits quite often and sometimes they're well deserved - not everyone loves their child like Harry does. Not everyone raises their child to be the way Harry has raised Elijah. Not everyone has such a beautiful heart.

Louis decides as he stands in middle of Harry's bedroom that he hates his job.

**Crunch.**

He crushes another peppermint angrily between his jaws.

"Hey. I know you're busy being nosy but I really think I should check on Elijah." Harry says, out of breath and his eyes wild like he'd ran a marathon.

Really, Elijah was spot on.

It's an honest miracle that Harry's not the one with the heart disease.

"What?" Louis holds his clipboard to his side instead of up near his chest. "Do you think something's happened?"

"He's been gone for an hour just for noodles." Harry says, grabbing his keys from his nightstand and glancing at Louis. "I'll be back? I don't know - I'm not sure exactly what to do about this inspec-"

"I'll go with you."

"What? No - the inspection. What about the state?"

"Fuck the inspection. Fuck the state."

Harry and Louis share the same silent gaze for a split moment and then Harry's off again, his heart pounding in his chest. "Fuck the state." He agrees, flying down the steps and out the door. He's thankful he knows Elijah's route to pretty much everywhere is the same - he takes the most scenic trail of course (Harry'd taught him well) and that means they've got to get out of the car and walk on foot through a beautiful cave of orange and red leaves that sprinkle themselves over the paths pavement - it's not beautiful when you're in a panic. 

Louis would tell Harry to slow down but his child is out here somewhere - somewhere and Harry's got good reason to worry. He doesn't know much about Elijah's condition but he does know he has some frequent flareups with asthma attacks and palpitations that lead to anxiety attacks which then, inevitably lead to asthma attacks - because of this, Harry's never left the house without Elijah's inhaler (or his Puffy, what Elijah dubbed it back when he was four years old.) throughout the years Harry's had to buy several new pairs of jeans because of the holes rubbed into the denim by the corners of Elijah's Puffy - _No worries_ , he'd tell Elijah when he'd apologize around five and six for the Puffy holes in Harry's jeans. _I can always get a new pair of jeans. I'll never be able to get a new Elijah._

**_Never._ **

"Lij!" Harry calls out, his hands shoved in his jacket pockets as he steps into high gear, the wind rustling the trees surrounding them. "Elijah!" He calls out, his jaw clenched and his eyes blurring with worry - don't blame him for thinking the worst because with Elijah lately the surprises just haven't been very satisfactory.

"Do you think maybe he just got distracted? Maybe he ran into some friends on the way." Louis suggests, out of breath but trying his best to keep up with the taller man - for a moment, a fraction of a second, Harry feels sorry for Louis.

"No. He would have texted or FaceTimed. He knows how important - _Elijah!_ \- he knows how important it is to let me know where he is." He says softly, never meaning to sound like a helicopter parent because he's the opposite. He just knows Elijah's tendency to forget his inhaler, especially when he's just making runs that are meant to be quick to the store and back.

It's fifteen minutes before they find him, grocery bag still on the handle of his bike as he lay beside it, heaving on the pavement.

At this point, Louis isn't sure what else to do - he can't help, he doesn't know how so all he's left to do is witness a bond between a father and son.

"Lijah - c'mon. Got your Puffy." He says, sitting on his legs with Elijah's head lying on his thighs to prop him up. His forehead is scraped and his lip is bleeding, the fall was nasty but it could have been worse. "C'mon, Bubs." He puts the inhaler between Elijah's lips and gives him a few pumps, rubbing his chest to work the air through.

How many times has Harry been in this exact position, Elijah's head in his lap?

Hundreds of thousands, it seems.

"Two more." He says, giving Elijah two more pumps - his breathing isn't as rigid but they've still got to make a trip to Children's.

"Will you grab his bike for me?" Harry asks softly, his tone calmer now that he's found Elijah. "I gotta carry 'em all the way back." He says and Louis is quick to grab the bike, silent nod aimed at Harry and he's got the same eyes that mirror Harry's when he first started to worry back at the house - wild and panicked.

"I-is he okay?" Louis asks dumbly, watching Harry pick Elijah up from the pavement and cradle him in his arms - stone him for noting how strong he is.

"He's breathing, which is good. We were on a streak there with no attacks but something must have got his heart rate up too high." He explains, his eyes on Elijah's face that bleeds onto his shirt.

He'd cry if he could but he's learned that doesn't make anything better - It panics Elijah more and blurs the clear train of thought Harry needs to get him help.

Hospitals are for crying if he needs to - cars, walks back to the car and wherever Elijah is hit with an attack is not an acceptable place to break down.

"We're going to the hospital, yes?" Louis asks as he wheels the bike beside him and he feels stupid for being so clueless - he feels like he's watching a television show right in front of him. Perhaps he's just a bit sheltered..

"Yes. Of course." Harry nods, answering his question with not as much attitude as Louis was expecting.

The car ride is rather silent besides Elijah's gentle heaves which Harry's counting for some reason - Again, Louis feels so lost.

Heave, _one_.. Heave, _two_.. Heave, _three._. it goes on until they park in the garage where Harry grabs Elijah and carries him inside. It's immediate, it's a whirlwind, it's magic almost - as soon as they see Harry and the limp body he's cradling,everyone is rushing around to help them. Louis concludes they must be regulars here.

"It's been four months, Styles." One of the nurses says and Harry nods at her solemnly.

"Rode his bike down to the store." He breathes, watching Elijah get wheeled off in a stretcher to a room where they'll give him proper breathing treatments, clean up his wounds and check his heart rate.

"We'll take care of 'em. Sit tight, you know the drill." The nurse pats Harry's shoulder and gives him a smile that looks reassuring.

"Thanks." He says softly, going to plop down into one of the waiting room chairs and Louis sits daintily beside him, eyes still wide and his lips parted with shock. He left the house today expecting to do a lousy inspection but instead he's witnessed love in one of its very truest forms.

"I'm sorry."

Harry peers over at Louis and furrows his brows in confusion, his train of thought interrupted by an apology of all things by Mr.Peppermint himself - speaking of, he's unwrapping one right now.

"For what?"

"For questioning you. For questioning the care you give Elijah. Your parenting. I'm sorry." He breathes, the peppermint shoved into his cheek rather haphazardly - the poor man must be feigning for one.

"I forgive you." Harry whispers, taking a peppermint from Louis' jacket pocket to see what the hype is all about. It's sweet and it tastes more like spearmint than peppermint - unless they're the same thing..

_Not too bad._

"I - I don't know what I was thinking. I didn't realize Elijah required this kind of care.. I ha-"

"Louis. It's okay. I forgive you."

Louis slouches and furrows his brows at his hands while he mindlessly picks at his godawful hangnails. "The pictures on your walls. His bedroom. The cards on the table in your room." He shakes his head and forces a shaky breath into his windpipe. "The way you knew something was wrong." He moves his peppermint from one side of his cheek to the other. "Harry, don't ever let anyone question your parenting again. I don't give a fuck who it is. Fight it. Fight the fucking school - take 'em to court. Sue 'em for emotional distress. I don't care. Fuck them for ever assuming your abilities as a parent."

Harry is listening of course, his head turned slightly as he eyes the man beside him who's clearly feeling guilty. "You think I should?"

"No - I mean - you _could_. I'm just angry right now." Louis breathes, wiping his nose after he sniffs softly, a chuckle following suit. "I hate my job. I hate doing the inspections. I hate seeing the bad houses and I hate having to report the good ones for one stupid little thing." He finally faces Harry and gives him a pitiful smile. "But this is what I went to college for. Three fucking years."

"Quit, then. There's plenty of jobs out there, Louis. I could always use a hand, you know.. Trimming and harvesting can be quite a job with just one other person and myself."

"Seriously?"

"Fuck yeah. I would love the help."

"Can I have smoke breaks?"

"As many as you want."

It's settled, then - Louis is quitting his job to work with Harry and he can finally ditch all these peppermints and have a damn smoke when he wants one without worrying who might see him in the parking lot or what nosy little brat will tell all their fellow classmates that they saw Mr.Tomlinson smoking in his car this morning - despite his plans on quitting he already decides he might quit quitting and light one up the second he gets the chance.. What? It's been a stressful day.

 


	3. Girl Scout Cookies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiiiii I just wanna say thank you for all the feedback on this fic I loooooove writing it and I'm so glad you guys enjoy it. anyway. leave me fucking comment im very lonely ;)  
> love you.

                                                                                  

It's an hour before anyone comes out again and in that time Harry had explained the entire process of growing bud to Louis - from little baby seed to full grown flower. They talked about Elijah and what his deal might be with his grades. Louis suggests that Harry has a sit down with him despite their usual banter just to get to the root of the problem. Louis suspects that Elijah might have a case of social anxiety and that might explain the bathroom classesbut he wouldn't say so, not unless Harry asks.

"Dad." Elijah croaks out when he sees Harry, tears spilling down his cheeks and let it be known, this isn't typical from Mr.Tough Guy Styles - rarely has he ever cried after a fit, even when he was only four when they first started.

"Lijah." Harry coos, sitting in the chair beside the hospital bed to smooth his hands through his sons hair. "What's the matter? Never cry 'cause of these things." He whispers, avoiding the bandages on Elijah's face as he caresses his boys features.

Right now he looks like Harry.

"My face _hurts_."

"I know" Harry hums, swiping the tears from beneath his eyes and giving him a smile anyway, despite how bad he wants to cry with his boy - he can't. He won't. "We need to do the good luck puffs." Harry says, hoping it would cheer Elijah up, if even just slightly.

"Here." He hands Elijah the baby blue inhaler after popping off the dark purple lid that covers the mouthpiece. _"Puff_ \- " one puff " _Puff_ -" he says between thesecond puff Elijah takes and he grins when he passes it to Harry. " _Pass_."

They giggle together like two little boys, the Puffy pocketed again exactly where it fits in the stretched, flimsy imprint in Harry's black jeans.

Soon Elijah is discharged with three new inhalers and extra bandages - the boy wants to ask why Mr.Tomlinson had come all this way to the hospital with them but he doesn't. Harry always tells him to ride the wave, let it happen, so that's what he does.

"Why don't you come inside? We've got the pasta now and I can reheat everything." Harry offers, eyeing Louis who sits in the passenger seat beside him and Harry's sure he's got at least three peppermints in his cheeks at this point.

"Oh, no - I couldn't - _I_ -"

"Come on.."

"Harry - I.." he trails off and Harry stares at him with risen eyebrows - he can't think of a good excuse on the spot, never has he been a good liar and he can't start right here in the passenger seat of Harrys goddamned Range Rover. What kind of money is this man making, anyhow?

"Alright. Okay. _Fine_."

Louis sits at the marbled countertop as Harry finishes dinner at the stove, all five million of his peppermints are being crunched in his jaws at once and Harry can barely take it anymore.

_Please, pasta.. Cook faster so this man will quit with his candies._

_\- Love, Harry._

"Why do you eat those again?" Harry asks curiously, straining the perfectly cooked pasta in the colander that steams up the sink.

"I'm trying to quit smokin'." Louis sighs, eyeing Elijah who doesn't seem to give a shit if Mr.Tomlinson smokes a cigarette or not, too busy reading one of the comic books Zayn had just recently lent to him.

"So you'd rather annoy everybody else with your glass chewing instead of smoking a cig?"

"Yes, actually."

"Hell yeah. I actually respect that."

" _Hell yeah_." Elijah pipes up from behind his comic book, raising his fist and taking any opportunity to curse- recently Harry had promised Elijah that for however many curse words he says in a day, Elijah can say exactly three more. And, hey, shock value is what Elijah thrives on though it seems Louis is becoming rather used to the boys antics.

Dinner is plated on pretty blue and white plates and Harry is actually quite enjoying himself (and the compliments both Louis and Elijah are giving him.)

"You know, I don't usually like shellfish or - or any fish for that matter but _god,_ Harry.." he trails off and Harry thinks he can see Louis' eyes roll back into his head. "I'm in love." He coughs on a noddle and clenches his jaw. "With this pasta."

"Nice save." Elijah splutters around his mouthful of shrimp, sun dried tomatoes, mozzarella sauce and noodles. "S'good, Dad. Add this to your regulars." He says and Harry gives him a nod, agreeing to add it to their long list of weekday favorites that usually consist of things Harry thinks up when he's fried - Pulled pork mac and cheese pizza (and it's brother, the pulled pork mac and cheese grilled cheese), steak salad with Guac, donuts shoved into the waffle iron topped with bacon or sausage links for breakfast and literally a bazillion more.

Harry cleans up everyone's bowls but there's not much to scrub off, considering everyone including himself had practically licked their bowls clean. Around eleven, Elijah declares he's sleepy with a yawn Harry can tell is absolutely fake as fake could get but he won't question it. "C'mere, then" Harry smiles, grabbing Elijah's head between his hands and pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "Please don't eat the rest of that pasta tonight. Please." Elijah pleads - it's not unusual for him to ask Harry not to eat things after he goes off to bed considering that's when Harry smokes and when he smokes, he gets the munchies.

"Alright, Lij, don't be such a drama queen." He teases, letting his boy go so he could run off and pretend to go to sleep for whatever reason. "Love you."

"Love you, Dad." He's off to bed after that, the sound of his door shutting made more audible than usual and Harry's really wondering what his boy has up his sleeve.

"I should get going." Louis breathes, slipping off of the barstool and grabbing for his jacket.

"No!" Harry yelps, ditching his usually cool demeanor for what sounds to be a desperate one. "Uh - stay.. I.. I want to show you something."

They give each other that gaze again and Louis nods slowly after a moment, another peppermint unwrapped and shoved into his cheek for safe keeping - he's especially craving a smoke now after eating something so rich for dinner.

After they get their jackets on and Louis pulls his beanie over his ears they set off to the back garden where they seem to be headed towards the greenhouse in question earlier. "Are you showing me your plants, Styles?" Louis asks softly and Harry just gives him a cheeky grin. "I'm showing you my other babies, besides my first and favorite one pretending to be asleep right now."

" _Pretending_?"

"I'm guessing porn but I'm not sure." Harry shrugs and Louis chokes on his spit. He seems to do that often.

"You aren't - you aren't worried about that or..?"

"We had the talk a few days ago." Harry says, opening the door that leads down a long corridor where at the end two double doors sit with lights glowing pink behind them. "At his age I was doing it and if he's by himself in bed just watching.. Shit, that's fine with me."

Louis seems to be understanding Harry's logic more and more as the hours pass and he's consistently blown away by his intelligence - fuck whoever the Louis was that declared a life wasn't fulfilled until graduation. Fuck whoever the Louis was who put those who never graduated down.Fuck him because Harry is by far the most logical person he's ever met in one of the most easygoing kind of ways.. What the fuck.

"So.." Louis gasps when the double doors open and inside are all kinds of plants, illuminated by neon pink lights that must have some sort of purpose, right? "Wow." He whispers, rather blown away by the scale.

"Zayn has a permit for 99 plants and I have a permit for 99 plants.. This is the product of that. Almost."He gently tugs at Louis' jacket sleeve and the man resists the urge to grab the hand that's tugging him along on this adventure.

"We harvested a few plants a month ago and the bud's been drying for some time since then. It's harvest time again and honestly, I couldn't be happier." He shows Louis to the back room where there's several plants hanging upside down to dry as well as several more who look to be in a different stage. On the table in the back sit at least twenty large air tight locked mason jars and Louis is absolutely shook to his core.

"This is crazy. This is my freshman year of college fantasy." He whispers, taking in a big whiff of the air around them. It's amazing what a smell can do for your memory - 2009, Louis' dorm room. He was lucky he never got caught doing what he did, feeling all incognito as he blew his lungfuls of smoke out into the courtyard. It's been eight years since then and Louis hasn't touched a blunt, a joint, a bong or a bowl since.

"Its my everyday fantasy." Harry whispers, going to crack open one of the airtight containers and Louis follows along curiously, watching him in obvious awe of it all. Harry flips on a lamp and holds the bud beneath its light, "Girl Scout Cookies - it's a common strain but it was born here in Cali. Lots of people in illegal states say they got it but that's bullshit." He twirls it around so the light catches all its crystals, holding it only by the stem. "Full body high - little goes a long way. This baby has won several Cannabis Cup awards. It's a classic." He smirks and Louis' not sure where to look, the sparkle in Harry's eyes or the sparkle in the bud.

The way Harry talks about cannabis and the way he talks about Elijah are two completely different things - his eyes sparkle the same but his tone is different. Harry respects cannabis and seems to adore it in a different light than his son. When Harry talks about Elijah, Louis can tell the boy is the light of his life, the moon and his stars - cannabis just seems to be a career path he's chosen and rightfully so. Louis could only hope the bud he was smoking in college was grown by someone as hot and educated as Harry is - the sad truth is that it was most likely grown in the closet of some student at a nearby college.

_Oh well._

"We only had sticky stuff and not sticky stuff." Louis whispers, peering up at Harry meekly and then back at the bud that glistens beneath the light. "I mean - I got high of course but if I had this I imagine I would have never stopped smoking in the first place."

Harry pipes up and looks at Louis, eyebrows wiggling a bit. "What do you say then?" He smirks, putting the bud into a little baggie and sealing it up tight. "Want to pay freshman in college Louis a visit? A salute to the past kid cannabis?" He grins and Louis chuckles into his sleeve.

"Styles, I thought you'd never ask."

•~•

So that's it. Harry locked up the green house and they got all situated together on the back patio that faces the garden. While Harry rolls the joint, Louis has some questions.

"This is a beautiful garden."

"Thank you."

"Who does it for you?"

That question makes Harry snort. "C'mon. _Who does it for me_?" He gives Louis a look and shakes his head. "I don't just grow pot, Louis. I admire plants of all kinds. Elijah and I just uprooted nearly everything to replant flowers that'll survive the cold." He smiles and Louis can't help his grin - he's still hating himself for ever questioning Harry's abilities to parent.

"You've got quite the green thumb, don't you?"

"Always."

It's not but a moment later that Harry's taking a drag, handing it over to Louis who sucks in a deep breath of fresh air before taking his first hit since college. Oh, nostalgia. The taste is different, fresher and greener and sweeter than he remembers but it's only setting in stone that whatever he was smoking was shit compared to what Harry's growing with help of his mysterious friend Zayn - Louis just realizes they'll be co-workers. Bud buddies, pot growers.

~~Wow.~~

"Shit." Louis whispers after he exhales, handing the joint back to Harry and leaning back into  the cushioned patio chair. He feels like he's melting into the wicker already.

"Let it come. Accept it. Say whatever you're thinking if you want. I don't judge." Harry says softly, lungs full again and he hands the joint back to Louis who takes another silent hit to himself. Then another and then one more before he says he's had enough. It's five minutes later that he can't stop thinking.

"Tell me about Elijah's mother." Louis requests, unaware of his rudeness. He doesn't have a great grip on himself right now and whatever comes to mind, he wants to ask. Harry said he could, anyway.

"She - she's not alive anymore." Harry says, flicking ashes into his ashtray full of leftover joints and blunts that 2009 Louis would have gone bonkers for. "She died giving birth to Elijah but - you know - she was living on borrowed time." He shrugs a little and looks over at Louis who's staring up at the moon, listening to Harry speak.

"I was young. I didn't love her but she was my best friend. We got in trouble together and we did whatever we wanted. We were so bad. So fuckin' bad." He shakes his head and chuckles, thankful that Elijah doesn't have the same bad boy streak Harry had going on up until that very day. The day his boy was born.

"We didn't talk much before Elijah was born because she was really fucking up. Using a lot, drinking.. She didn't change anything. So, Elijah pays for it."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It's made me a stronger person and a better Dad."

"When did you find out Elijah had a heart problem?" Louis asks curiously, turning his head to stare at Harry instead, rather bored with the moon now.

"Mm.. It was at an arcade Zayn and I used to frequent. I let him sit on the table to play one of the games and he started making noises - I can't explain them. They change every year." He turns his head to look back at Louis, their eyes meeting, their faces illuminated by the moonlight above them. "He was four."

Louis sucks in a deep breath and slouches a little, giving Harry a sheepish grin. "He's wonderful. So much like you, you know. A treat to be around.. Keeps you on your toes."

"Are you saying you enjoy my company, Tomlinson?"

"Absolutely."

It's a while that they share their gaze and Harry can barely take it anymore - why is it just now that he realizes how beautiful Louis is? Sure, he'd noted his rather large... _Ass_.. But never actually sat for long enough to take in every feature.

"Elijah thinks you like me in a _gay way_."

"What if I do?"

"I dunno.."

Louis swallows the spearmint flavored lump in his throat, in dire need of some water right about now but he's not willing to lose this moment with Harry - he's too high for his own good and he's fraternizing with a students father in a _gay way_. How many rules can one person break in a day?

"C'mere." Harry whispers, inviting Louis to get closer to him, to invade his personal space and Louis practically shivers when he realizes Harry is gesturing for him to sit on the cushion right beside him. For some reason he doesn'tquestion it and like the floppiest noodle, he shuffles over to Harry and lands himself delicately on the cushion, eyes staring over at the man beside him.

"Are you sure?" Louis asks stupidly, already sat with his left thigh squished against Harry's right.

"Positive."

It's awkward for Louis, sitting here with their faces so close and he tries to take a few breaths to calm himself - he's high off four hits but he doesn't have the conscience to feel guilty about it right now.

"What does Elijah know about the gay way?" Louis asks softly, peering over at Harry who's staring right back already.

"I dunno - I mean. He knows about gay relationships. I might have explained gay sex to him, too." Harry shrugs.

"What? Oh my.."

"I'm pretty sure he turned green." Harry chuckles, leaning his head back against the cushion covering the wicker chair. "I wanted to cover all the bases. I want him to be educated on these things."

"That's very responsible of you.."

"Well - it doesn't matter much now. Porn is teaching him the rest." Harry chuckles, still unsure if that's what his son is doing up there but he wouldn't be surprised if his curiosity got the best of him.

For a bit longer, they stare at one another and Louis swears he feels it coming - a kiss - a touch - a something. But it doesn't. There's electric buzzing through his core and his neediness is so strong it rattles him nearly sober after an hour. The buzz is Louis' chest dies down and he's reaching into his pocket for his keys.

He was hoping to break a few more rules tonight but it seems it's just not in the cards - maybe Harry isn't interested.

~~Fuck.~~

"I should go." Louis whispers, standing to shake himself out. "I'm gonna tell them I'm quitting tomorrow, I think."

"Really?"

"Yeah.. I've wanted to do this for two years."

"Come over after, if you want. We'll celebrate and - and I can start teaching you how to trim."

"Okay."

They share another glance, the same one they always do and then Louis is turning on his heel to go. "Bye, Harry." He whispers, walking down the steps from the back deck to the a shortcut through the front gate.

"Bye, Tomlinson.. _Good luck tomorrow_."


End file.
